


Do you miss the Cylons yet?

by Starb_uck



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Punishment, Voyager's gone space crazy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:48:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starb_uck/pseuds/Starb_uck
Summary: Captain Janeway. Even thinking the name in her mind made Starbuck wince reactively. She was the cruellest person Starbuck had ever met, far outstripping Admiral Cain. The black of her red-collared Starfleet uniform matching her heart.Dark crossover set in the Voyager universe.
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway / Kara "Starbuck" Thrace, Seven of Nine/Kara "Starbuck" Thrace
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Do you miss the Cylons yet?

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure what inspired this one but hey ho! This might be an even more difficult situation for me to extract poor old Starbuck from hehe.
> 
> Archive warnings don't really apply in this chapter, but I like to tag with caution.

The door opened. The officers seated around the table craned their necks for a better view as Seven of Nine entered, face calm and expressionless as always. She held the prisoner by its upper arm, her superior height and strength forcing the other woman up onto her toes as she pushed her forward. B’Elanna could see stress and strain on her face and wondered what she'd done to merit such rough treatment. The Borg pushed her to stand before the Captain, releasing the grip on her arm with a contemptuous shove so that Starbuck staggered, keeping her balance with an obvious effort. Her hand moved to rub the sore place on her arbm as she looked up with trepidation at the room full of officers. 

"So. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce our newest crew member. This is Kara Thrace. *Captain Kara Thrace, no less.."

There was a murmur of laughter in the room, that swelled as Janeway smiled with thin lips, allowing the joke. 

"The Captain appears to be from another universe, another dimension of some kind, from what I can gather. There, Captains are lower in rank than Commanders, would you believe?"

An open giggle of disbelief now from Tom. B’Elanna dug him in the ribs as the Captain turned towards him. 

"I know, hard to believe, isn't it, Mister Paris? Still, I think we can safely say we'll all play a part in ensuring our.. *guest, doesn't begin to entertain any notions above her station. I'll be looking to all of you for assistance in this matter".

Nods and murmurs of agreement from around the table. Looking at the blonde pilot, standing on shaky legs, head bowed slightly, hands wrapped protectively around her upper body, B’Elanna had to concede that she didn't look at all as though she was considering anything of the sort. She dragged her attention back to the Captain as Janeway continued. 

"As the good *Captain has apparently no means of returning to her own place and time, we have no choice but to offer her a place here with us, on Voyager. For which I'm sure she's very grateful. Aren't you, Thrace?"

Starbuck stirred. Her gaze flickered fearfully to the Captain, and her tongue emerged, licking nervously at her swollen lip. B’Elanna wondered again at what had occurred during her interrogation at the hands of the Captain, and concluded that she really didn't want to know. The pilot looked so cowed, so small, so frightened. B’Elanna could sense the contempt issuing from the others as they observed her. 

"Yes, Captain. Th..thank you.."

"You can show your gratitude by making yourself useful. Now.." Here Janeway clapped her hands together sharply, raising her voice to address the whole room. "I want all of you to think hard, to come up with ideas for how the good *Captain can demonstrate her value to us. Nobody has a free ride here. We all have to play our part. Isn't that right?"

More nods and murmurs of assent. Janeway smiled. "Yes, it's been a long tough ride. We've all had to work hard, to make sacrifices. But now we have an opportunity to get something back. I'm sure we can all think of tasks that are time consuming, tedious, messy, even.. *painful. You, for example, Mister Neelix. How would you feel about never having to scrub out the ovens in the mess hall ever again?"

Neelix's eyes widened. It was the job he hated most of all. It took him hours. 

"I'd.. why, I'd be ecstatic, Captain! It would save so much time, time which I could then put to better use preparing more delicious dishes for you and the crew! Only last week I was saying.."

"Thank you, Ambassador". Janeway cut him off smoothly. "There we have it, then. Starbuck will clean the ovens for you from now on. I trust you'll ensure she makes a good job of it, and let me know at once if she starts slacking. Now, Chakotay..."

Janeway went round the table, discussing and sculpting Starbuck's new job description with her officers. B’Elanna squirmed as the conversation moved closer to her. She knew what the obvious choice from Engineering was, but something in her shrank from assigning the task to the obviously bewildered pilot, who looked more and more at sea as the conversation continued. Remembering that she'd never heard of Starfleet, B’Elanna thought that most of the discussion probably made absolutely no sense to her whatsoever. 

"Lieutenant. And what do you suggest for the contribution from Engineering?"

B’Elanna stayed quiet for a moment, thinking furiously. The room was very quiet. Tom kicked her surreptitiously as the silence drew out, and she shook herself, opening her mouth. 

"Well, I could use a hand cleansing all the old computer data from the system. We could give her basic access ... It's just a question of manually deleting duplicated files one by one. She couldn't do any damage there, the computer won't allow her to delete multiple files, so..."

She faltered and stopped as she registered the disapproval on the Captain's face. 

"Deleting computer files.. I think you can come up with something more appropriate than that, don't you, B’Elanna? What about the plasma manifolds? Only yesterday I remember you telling me how they're in the habit of clogging up almost every day, isn't that right?"

"Yes, because we haven't had the opportunity for an overhaul in the shipyards, obviously, so it's only to be expected, but.."

"..And it's an unpleasant, filthy task, isn't it? One that your Engineering crew undertake on a rota basis, isn't that right? You taking your turn along with your crew?"

"Yes, Captain, but..."

"Well, just think how it would be if you no longer had to perform the task at all, any of you. Not every week, not even once a month, not ever. Wouldn't that improve morale? Hmmm?"

"Yes, it would, Captain, but it doesn't seem quite fair..."

She flushed again as the Captain fixed her with a steely eye. 

"Why don't you let me worry about what's fair, Lieutenant? So. That's that sorted, then. How do you like the sound of your new duties, Thrace?"

She spoke dismissively, without looking at the pilot. Starbuck blinked. It sounded... busy. Most of it she didn't understand, but she got the gist of it. She was to do the jobs nobody else wanted to do. She would be ship's dogsbody. She sighed inside. If only.. if only that were all she would have to be. She had a horrible suspicion that it wasn't. 

As if on cue, Harry spoke up from the far end of the table. 

"What about you, Captain? What task will our guest be taking off *your hands?"

B’Elanna saw Seven and the Captain exchange a complicit smirk. Her suspicions confirmed, she experienced an unexpected pang of sympathy for the prisoner. She hadn't asked for any of this - hadn't done anything wrong - it had just been her sheer bad luck to end up here, on this ship where everyone was busy going a little space-crazy. Where morality was looser than it had been, and where everyone was thoroughly bored of each other and desperate for new amusement. *What must she think of us...

"Oh, believe me, Ensign, she'll be taking a most important, personal task off my hands. Literally". Besides her, Seven snorted.


End file.
